Wednesday, Sept. 04, 2002 - 10:25 p.m.
Long Shot

I was walking around. It was nighttime. Bedtime, actually; guys were getting ready for bed. What conversation I could overhear was all about sleep. I think I saw—or maybe heard—fellows brushing their teeth. It was a basement, I think. Bunkbeds everywhere. Steps led down into some rooms, up into others; there was no architectural logic to the place.

I don't remember what I was wearing, where—or if—I was going to sleep, just that all this raucous boyish getting-ready-for-bed routine made me extremely horny.

I kept wandering around and around, and in my travels I noticed a sexy dark-haired guy already tucked into his bottom bunk in one of the rooms. None of the other bunks were yet occupied. He was so beautiful and innocent-looking; something in my gut puckered up at the sight of him. I didn't want him to notice my attention so I walked through the room and into the next.

But I couldn't stop myself. Circuitously, I wound my way around the subterranean dormitory until I entered his room again. I came down the few steps right by the foot of his bunk. Some lights had gone out in the room since my last visit, but there was enough left to illuminate him there, sleeping bag unzipped and agape, eyes focused intently on the matter at hand.

Scarcely believing my fortune, I stood on the step and watched him jerk off. I'd arrived just in time; he did moments later, a thick spray of cum splatting near my head, bouncing off the wall, and landing in my open mouth.

As I tasted him—salty, mucousy, all together too much of a good thing—the lad noticed me for the first time. He called out to me, sheepish and glowing.

"Pretty amazing, eh?" he said.

I scraped my tongue on my teeth, lobbing the glob into my cheek before speaking.

"Yeah," I agreed, "It sure was!"

Tucking himself back into his underwear, he jumped out of bed and approached me. He was hyper, red-faced, gleeful. He couldn't believe his spooge had hit the wall. "Wasn't that incredible?" he exclaimed.

I agreed.

We wandered out into the well-lit hall. He talked and talked and talked about his feat, slapping me on the back for good-natured emphasis. We were friends now. The brine of his jism leaked down my throat. I began to feel sick.

But we were friends now, and he sensed not one whit of my desire.

I awoke.